


Dream Boy

by hopexhoney



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: College AU, Dream AU, Eventual Fluff, Hate to Love, Original Characters - Freeform, moderate dislike to love, more like, stray kids - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:59:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopexhoney/pseuds/hopexhoney
Summary: Using the dream world as an escape from reality, you meet Chan and when things get bad rely on his company and without realizing it maybe even a little more.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Dream Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first fic that I’m posting here so I can feel obligated to complete it, or at least keep up with it. I originally started writing this for my friend for her birthday but then I didn’t finish lol. I hope you enjoy xx
> 
> Oh also this is unedited sorry if there are mistakes!

I had never before been sad to move to a new place. But as I lay in my bed six months later, I’m finally realizing that the twinge of uneasiness that rang in my stomach as I stood in the airport waving a final goodbye to my friends, was because I didn’t want to leave. If I knew at the time what leaving would mean, how being here now would make me restless and broken, I don’t think I would’ve left at all.

I can feel a tear slide down my cheek and the bed bend slightly from the body next to adjusting before I drift into sleep.

The edges of my vision are blurry and I have to blink a few times before it clears up. A familiar hand reaches for mine and I let it take it. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.” I look up at the sound of his voice and smile softly. My throat feels a little hoarse so I just nod as a reply. I break eye contact and look at the setting we’re in. There are flowers all around us of every color and under my legs is a pillow of soft grass. I use my free hand to feel the fluffy sensation underneath me, so I can confirm that the grass really is as soft as I think it is. When my hand finally reaches the ground it feels like I’m sitting on a cloud. I lift my head up as the warm summer breeze starts to caress my cheeks and my smile grows so much that my teeth start to show. At some point I had closed my eyes because I feel them opening so I can look up at the sky and notice that I have a sun hat on. I let out a pleased sigh and pick my hand up from the grass and place it on my hat as I fall back and lie down on my back so I can enjoy the clear blue sky.

“I wish I could just stay like this forever,” I say from the ground. I feel my arm brush with another and turn my head to see Chan laying down next to me.

“And I wish we never had to leave,” he’s sighing as he crosses his hands and places them behind his head. I’m turning my body to the side so I can look at him better. “The meadow is one of the best places here by far. It doesn’t have to be anything but peaceful and it does exactly that, bring people peace. Everyone needs peace, even you.”

“How does grass even get this soft?” I’m asking to avoid the pointed statement and relieve some of the pressure of the situation. I let my mind slip to easier things, like how I’m somehow able to be here with him again and again. It makes me happier than anything real and makes me dread the reality that each morning brings. Here, my life is everything I want it to be. I don’t have to worry about things I don’t want to think about.

“You tell me,” Chan looks at me as he says it and then lets out a belly laugh that sounds so nice, so genuine, it makes me laugh too.

Sometime during university, I started to have the same dream over and over, except it wasn’t exactly the same dream each time, instead it kept picking up where it left off from the night before. I couldn’t even say when the last time I had another kind of dream was. At the beginning, it felt like any other dream. I would wake up in the morning and after a few minutes I would forget what I’d dreamt about and go on with my regular life. At that point, they were more reoccurring than continuous. Some nights I would be in that dream world, which I started calling Annwyn, a place in Welsh mythology meaning “otherworld”, since it seemed to fit the situation. Other nights I would dream of something else, or even nothing at all. It went on like that for a few years. Slowly, visiting Annwyn started becoming more frequent, and after a while I stopped having other kinds of dreams. And then I met Chan.

This dream started like any other, I opened my eyes and the edges of my vision were blurry. I rubbed my eyes to see if that would help me see clearer and when I opened them again my vision was clear. I know this place, I thought as I sat up and looked around. I was in a bed. One that my body seemed to recognize, even if my foggy mind could not. The sheets were a nice shade of coral with gold embroidery creating a nice flower pattern across the duvet. The only other thing that seemed to catch attention was a full length mirror, antique style and seemingly quite old but holding an aged beauty as well. Grey brick lined the walls, apart from a large tapestry hanging on the wall directly in front of the bed depicting an image of a cluster of colorful buildings, presumably a town, with a rather large building in the center, big enough to be a castle or a mansion of some sort. These were surrounded by a forest on three of the four sides and an ocean front on the other. It gave the room a little life that the otherwise grey walls sucked from it. A slightly opened window sat halfway up the wall on the right and a nice morning breeze floated in through it. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed after I had my fill of looking at the almost empty room. The floor was carpeted an impossibly lighter shade of coral than the sheets but matching the bedding nicely. A pair of slippers sat next to the bed; they must be inside shoes, I thought as I slipped my feet into them. 

A knock came to the door as I stood and a voice followed it, “My lady,” It was then that the memories of before came back to me. “I came with your day dress. It’s supposed to rain so we have to change to more sturdy wear.” My housemaid opened the door without any other warning. Her eyes widened slightly when they met mine and she bowed. “I didn’t realize that you were already awake.” I gave her a slight bow as well and smiled to try to soothe her shock.

“I just woke up.” I say, and she gives me a sort of puzzled look back.

“You always speak in the most odd manner, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.” She shakes her head but smiles at me anyway. She places the new day dress on the vanity chair in the corner next to the mirror.

“Hey, Anita, you don’t have anything that falls around the knees instead, do you?” I bend to make a slicing gesture with both of my hands above my kneecaps and I’m giving her a pleading look even though I know the answer before she says it.

“No,” She simply states. “The answer is the same as ever, my lady. It is known that you would prefer to be able to dance and run through the gardens, like you would where you come from, but unfortunately here we must keep up the facade that you are in fact a part of the royal court.” She gives me a pointed stare, one that says that this will be the last time that she tells me for at least a little while. 

“I know,” I say back, “but it’s always worth a try.” I wink which causes her to give a slightly uncomfortable chuckle. She bows and leaves the room without saying anything else.

I sigh and walk over to the new clothes that sit on the vanity where Anita left them. I pick up the dress and turn toward the mirror, place it in front of my body and give another sigh. The dress hits the floor as expected. How am I supposed to move in this? I think. I look down at the nightgown that’s already on my body. I could go out in this, but if I do then they’ll think I’m a tramp. Not that that hasn’t stopped me before. I attempt to rip the underskirt out from the dress and fail miserably. The stitching is done too well for simple tugging to make it come undone. I remember then that I’m in a dream, a world I can manipulate with my mind, and I will the skirt into legs and the garment shifts from a dress into a jumpsuit. I smile to myself at the victory, change into my newly altered clothes, and leave the room through the same door that the handmaid did.

The door opens up to a short hallway leading to a staircase. I walk to the fully opened window on the opposite side and look out. It’s at least a hundred feet up, and I get shivers as I poke my head out to get a better view of the fall. I look up to distract myself from the deadly height and am greeted by only the blue sky. This must be the highest tower. I look off in the distance and there doesn’t seem to be any clouds at all. Interesting weather for rain, I think to myself. I turn away from the window then and head down the stairs. There’s so many I’m nearly huffing by the time I reach the ground level. The few servants I see greet me as I walk by, and I give them a nod of acknowledgement. As I reach the dining hall, a crack of thunder rolls over the castle. 

“Countess,” A familiar voice addresses me. “It’s quite surprising for you to be so gracious to join us this early.” His voice booms from the other end of the dining table. And I recognize him as soon as my eyes find him there.

“It doesn’t seem that early, your Majesty.” I bow at the king and he stands and gives me a bow in return. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to join you now,” I say. “I have to get to the forest before the rain starts.” I elaborate when his expression changes to confusion. “It always sounds the best under the trees, and I’d rather not get soaked on my way there.” I say and turn with a peppy step and wave my hand to signal my departure.

I head for the south side of the castle, recalling that the distance to the forest is shortest there. Dark clouds start to fill the sky and another rumble of thunder rolls overhead. My pace quickens into a run as the rain suddenly starts to pour. I look forward into the shelter of the trees, only a few more feet and I can catch my breath. I close my eyes as I escape under the canopy of leaves and when I open them again I’m dryer than I was before I left the castle. 

I notice then that my day dress-turned-jumpsuit is a shade that matches the scenery well, and I smile at the thought of my housemaid changing my day clothes to match my adventures out in the forest rather than changing them because the forecast called for rain. She knew that I would come here when she heard that. 

This patch of forest is the closest to the castle but also the part with the best scenery and the best trees. Specifically one tree that holds its own sort of magic that calls to me every time it rains. It tells me to come to it and enjoy the sounds of nature from inside of its branches. And I do. Without fail. Every time. When I finally make my way to it this time, though, something feels off, but I do my best to ignore it and climb into it’s limbs like a mother holding their child. As I’m about to close my eyes and slip into a more peaceful state, I notice something sticking out of the hollow of the trunk. Curiosity gets the best of me and I climb a little higher so I can reach. It easily comes out of the hollow and as I look at it closer, I can see that the foreign object is a letter, addressed to the tree itself, and oddly enough there’s no return label. I turn the letter over but before I can open it, it’s being snatched out of my hands. A shocked look covers my face and I look up to see the perpetrator. My expression softens into something closer to confusion as my gaze lands on a boy with unkempt blond curls and a matching green tunic and pants to my jumpsuit. In his hair he sports an earthly colored braided headband with a thin line of gold running through it as well. His ears are slightly pointed and it makes me wonder for just a split second if he happens to be an elf. When my eyes reach his I realize that the shape is quite nice and the color is a rich shade of brown. It isn’t until he says something that it registers to me that I haven’t said anything and instead stared for the past 30 seconds. “The letter isn’t addressed to you.” Is all he says, but it shakes me out of my trance. 

“Well the tree isn’t going to read it.” I say in an attempt to make my mistake seem less bad. I’m reaching for the letter and he’s giving me a side eye as he pulls it further out of my grasp.

“That’s not the point.” He deadpans. Before I can reply he’s swinging out of the tree with his letter and I have to call after him for him to hear me. 

“Then why did you write a letter?” He slips behind one of the bigger trees in an attempt to avoid the situation. I scramble out of the tree so I don’t lose him and almost trip at the effort. Up above the rain is getting heavier, so much so that it’s starting to seep through the cover of the thick branches and leaves. “If you don’t want anyone to read it?” I add as I reach the tree that he hid behind. But my question only reaches the tree since he isn’t there at all anymore. I scan the tree line and come up empty. The loss of defeat doesn’t last long because up above me I hear a muffled chuckle and when I look up I’m met with a smile as bright as the sun itself. My distress twits with malice and his chuckle shifts into a full on laugh. I frantically climb up the tree after him and the letter is in between my fingers for a split second before it’s out of them again. I huff and reach after it but my footing slips from the trunk being covered in rain. I fall on top of him and his hand falls off of the trunk at the impact I’m sure both of us are about to tumble out of the tree altogether. I close my eyes and brace for the impact, but it doesn’t come. When I’m opening my eyes again I feel my cheeks flush pink at the proximity my face is to his. I scramble to get my footing back and push myself away from him as fast as I can, and then I realize that I don’t even know his name. “Well,” I start, but get cut off.

“It’s not about someone reading the letter that’s important.” His cheeks start to tinge pink and he turns his head out of embarrassment. He turns his head now of all times. Not when we were close enough to share our breath but now as he’s talking about a letter that no one should read.

“Uh-huh,” I say back matter-of-factly. “And that’s why you sent it to the mythical tree spirit, who just so happens to be a tree.” 

“Exactly.” Is all he says as he swings down from yet another tree. This time he turns towards me instead of just walking away. “I’m Chan, by the way.” He gives a deep bow and then spins on his foot.

“Chan.” I let the name roll over my tongue. It has a nice ring to it “Are you an elf?” I ask quite bluntly.

“Yeah something like that.” He calls over his shoulder and I’m yelling back to him for the second time today.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not from around here, and my ears are pointed, you put two and two together.” He points at his head and my eyes are drawn to his interestingly shaped ears once again. He couldn’t be much else with ears shaped like that, I think and then let it go. He’s getting further away from me now, and it’s making me restless.

“Will I see you again?” I’m asking and before I can hear his response, I blink and my eyes are opening into a begrudgingly familiar apartment bedroom.

___________________________________

The next time that I saw Chan, it was three days shy of a month since the first. I had been to Annwyn almost every day since, but every time I looked for him I couldn’t find him. I kept on going back into the forest thinking that eventually he would be there, waiting for me. He never was. But even with one disappointing day after another I didn’t give up hope that we would meet. Something in me knew that I would see him again, that I would find him, if I just kept on coming back to this place. 

On the first day back, I asked Anita if she knew of any elves, and her reply went something like, “My lady, elves have been extinct since Whitman the Great made it certain that every last one of them be banished or executed.” Whoever ‘Whitman the Great’ was, I didn’t care to ask, but I assumed by the soft chuckle and shaking head coming from the corner of the room that he’d been dead for at least a century. A sigh left my lips at the realization. Maybe I’d imagined that he was there, I thought. And then spiraling even further, I realized that this was in fact a dream and that I had in fact imagined him. “What makes you ask something like that?” Anita looks up from across the room and for a split second concern flashes through her eyes. It leaves when I start waving my hand as if to say it’s not important, and hopefully it’s enough to drop the topic. When she doesn’t start her work back up though, I know she’s looking for an explanation. 

“It’s just,” I start and stop again to close my eyes because I know that this will sound insane. I take a deep breath and open them back up, “I think I met one in the forest the other day, is all.” And I finish off the statement with another sigh.

“That’s not possible.” A pointed look fixes on her expression for a moment and quickly changes into something softer. “What makes you think so?”

“He had really pointy ears.” It comes out as more of a whine than I hoped, and sounds just as stupid as I was afraid it would when it reaches my own ears. 

When I don’t continue and just sit there with a defeated look, Anita takes the cue (albeit a second late) and says, “Well that is quite a distinguishing feature. I suppose he could be a nymph of some sort. Where did you meet him?” 

“In the forest, around the Bridegroom’s Oak. Actually in it, but that’s not important I guess.” I add the last sentence at a much quieter volume than the rest.

“A wood nymph, perhaps.” She states rather factually.

“Nymphs are usually girls, though, aren’t they?” This time I throw the pointed look in her direction.

She challenges me with a pointed look of her own. I drop mine. “That is true, but not necessarily always. Although it would be rather strange, it would be more probable for him to be a nymph than an elf.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Anita, satisfied with the conversation, goes back to her work. Feeling rather defeated I decide to keep the fact of knowing someone with pointed ears a secret from anyone else so that they don’t think I’m weirder than they already do. 

I spent the majority of the days after searching for him under the radar and I started to wake up feeling more restless and exhausted than I did when I fell asleep. I think at some point meeting him again became a sort of pipe dream, because I was not prepared to stand in front of him now. He was back at the Bridegroom’s Oak, putting a letter in the hollow of the trunk. Through the panic I could hear myself saying, “So did you turn into a tree or what?” Immediately after embarrassment coursed through my body. What a stupid thing to say.

He froze at the sound of my voice; hand inches from the hollow. His hand as well as the letter fall to his side as he turns to look at me, “I’m sorry, what?” He hops out of the tree and shoves the letter behind his back in his waistband. 

“Well, you’re not an elf are you?” I say. Real smooth, I think to myself, way to make your intentions really clear.

“No, I’m not.” He deadpans. “Why do you have to show up every time I try to leave my letter here peacefully?”

It’s a rhetorical question so I don’t answer. “So it’s the same letter as last time?” I ask instead. “And besides, I would just see it after you left it here and read it then, without you interrupting.” I stick out my tongue at him like a little kid. I’m rewarded with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll.

“The audacity!” His lips curl slightly as he says it. “You know you’re the strangest person I’ve met in this place.” 

“You’re not the first to tell me that.” I say in defense. “But I’m not the one who’s writing letters to trees.”

“You’ve got me there.” He puts his hands up in defeat. “Are you sure you’re not an elf?” A warm laugh escapes his lips. 

“No,” I say simply. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I look around and drop my voice, “the people around here claim that the only explanation for my strange speech patterns must be because I’m from the faewild.” I bring one hand up to cover my mouth as false shock fills my expression. This makes Chan laugh unmistakably. 

“You’re a fairy?” He asks after he finishes laughing, half shocked half unbelief.

“Something like that.” I give him a wink. “I’m also a countess if you can believe it.” 

“Yeah right,” he rolls his eyes again, but this time they hold a more playful tone than the last. “And I’m the crown prince.”

“And an elf, apparently.” I add. And we’re laughing together this time. At some point we had gotten close enough to be able to reach out and touch because as the laugh overtakes him, he’s reaching out and grabbing my arm and the touch is so sudden that my laugh gets caught in my throat and is overtaken by the heat of his hand wrapped around my arm. The moment ends as quickly as it began and he’s taking his hand away and using it to wipe a tear from his eye. He doesn’t notice the effect it had on me and then a sudden flood of embarrassment rushes over me as I realize I was the only one affected by the movement. 

“I told you I’m not an elf.” He’s saying after he regains his composure.

I hum in response. “So what are you then?” He stares at me as if I said something rude. “Humans don’t have pointed ears.” It comes out more rushed than I want.

“Well I must be a mutant then.” He says flatly. 

“Wait, you’re really a human?” I sound more shocked than I actually am, and for a moment it makes me wonder why my reactions are so exaggerated whenever I’m around Chan. 

“Yeah, more or less.”

“What’s that supposed to me? Do you not know?” This time I sound as shocked as I feel.

There’s a pause before he answers, like he’s thinking of the right words to say. “I’m not sure how I got here to be honest, I just showed up one day. I’ve only ever assumed that I was a regular human like everybody else. I didn’t even realize there was anything else.” He looks up into the trees as he says it, and I realize that I’m staring when his eyes lock with mine. “That is until I found you.”

The statement hits me with a force that almost physically knocks me backwards. I manage to keep my balance, but it’s as if someone has hit me straight in the stomach and it takes me a few moments to catch my breath. As I came back to myself, anger starts to flare up inside of me, and my cheeks start to heat. “What do you mean found me? I met you by chance nearly a month ago, right here, and spent the rest of the time in between our second chance meeting looking for YOU.” I’m yelling it at him, almost spitting it out, to show that his statement isn’t true at all. He takes a step back. “Without much luck, might I add.” I say after, much softer.

“I just meant,” His voice is filled with reluctance as he says it, “that I met someone who isn’t human. I never thought of there even being that possibility before.” His gaze shifts to the ground and he kicks a rock that’s under his foot.

“Oh.” Is all I can manage to say. I watch him kick his foot into the ground for a second. “I’m,” I pause even though I shouldn’t. “Sorry.” It comes out just above a whisper. “I just assumed,” a familiar heat returns to my cheeks but it feels slightly different, more guilty than before, “you meant me,” and I let my head fall to the ground under my own feet, “personally.” The statement ends in a whisper.

Silence sifts through the trees and it seems that even they are holding their breath. I stare at the ground as if I have turned into one of the rocks that sits under my feet. “Why?” It’s soft, but loud enough that the trees capture their breath and I am made of flesh and bones once more. I meet his eyes. “Were you looking for me?” He says and his eyes are telling me that he’s ready to wait for the answer if he has to. 

My face twists. “I don’t- I don’t know.” I feel myself saying, but my mind is running and I’m searching for an answer more for myself than for him. “I just needed to see you again.” Relief covers my features when I say it. Chan filled my thoughts. Whether I was here or in the real world, I thought of him more than I should. “I needed to see you so you can get out of my head.” I state as if I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. 

Thunder booms from above the trees. His eyes turn soft for a moment and then harden again. “So we won’t see each other after this?” He asks and I’m not sure how he wants me to answer. But my heart tightens at the thought of there being a ‘we’ anyway. 

“I don’t really see the point,” my mouth is betraying me. “We don’t owe each other anything.” I say simply.

“That’s true, but good company is never a bad thing.” His lips curl into a smile and I swear he’s about to wink. I look away before I can see if he does. 

“I guess you’re not wrong either.” 

“So,” he says and steps into my line of sight. “Meet me here again sometime? I want to learn more about you.” He forces our eyes to meet; his smile growing into a toothy grin. “About fairies and other magic.” He adds. “You’ve turned out to be pretty useful to me, I think.”

“When?”

He pauses for a while and then, somehow, his smile grows even bigger. “How about when it rains?”

I smile back to him at the statement. “Okay.”


End file.
